Grampa's Drinking Problem
by Galaxy1001D
Summary: Concerned for Marilyn and Eddie, Herman and Lily share a shameful secret about Grampa.


**Grampa's Drinking Problem**

 _By Galaxy1001D_

It was a beautiful day in Mockingbird Heights. The fog had rolled in and covered the normally bright and cheery suburb in a delightful layer of gloom. The mists allowed the imagination to roam free so today Herman Munster told his coworkers in his carpool to let him off so he could walk the rest of the way home. His coworkers understood. Since Herman was over seven feet tall, his long strides made his stiff lumbering walk deceptively quick and he could cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time. Saying their goodbyes, the men from the funeral parlor Herman worked at stopped the hearse and allowed Herman to exit the vehicle using the backdoors that were built for coffins.

Compared to most people, Herman Munster was a giant, even in a thin fog he cut an intimidating figure that was completely at odds with his gentle and genial personality. Some would say that even in bright light, he didn't look entirely human. Herman Munster had a flat topped angular head and pale greenish skin. Metal bolts protruded from each side of her neck below his ears. His dark suit was large enough to cover his unnaturally broad shoulders yet the sleeves seemed too short for his long arms and revealed stitches and scars on his wrists. A lightning shaped scar descended down his forehead over his right eye. Speaking of eyes, not only did they not match, but a heavy Neanderthal like brow shaded them. Herman Munster was the creation of Doctor Victor Frankenstein, but to this day he seemed blissfully unaware that the doctor's earlier creations had been less than successful and even dangerous. Herman, on the other hand, had been adopted by the Munster family in England before getting married and moving to the United States in search of the American Dream. These days he considered himself just a typical American; just your typical working stiff you'd meet on the street.

As he strolled down the residential blocks of his home town Herman dimly sensed that there were others who didn't perceive him the same way he did. As a matter of fact the behavior of the people he met on the street indicated that they were having panic attacks or nervous breakdowns. For a person to behave this way was an anomaly, but for numerous individuals to be acting so strangely indicated a bigger problem, a continuous situation that Herman could no longer ignore. By the time he reached home, his demeanor wasn't quite so cheery.

In the suburb of Mockingbird Heights, there was a street called Mockingbird Lane. Mockingbird Lane led through a reasonably normal neighborhood for the well-off suburbanite who could afford a large house with a large yard. One would assume that property values would be through the roof, but here the cost of a home on that street was quite reasonable, all things considered. You see, there was one house that brought the property values down low enough so that people could actually buy a house in that neighborhood without having to sell a child, work two jobs, or auction off one's internal organs.

The house at 1313 Mockingbird Lane looked like it should have been condemned and it was condemned by many of the neighbors who avoided it and seldom looked in its direction. The weather-beaten house was a Second Empire two story Victorian mansion surrounded by a yard filled with bare trees and dead leaves. Its paint was peeling and its shutters were loose and rattled noisily in the wind that seemed to continuously assault it. As a matter of fact, neighbors had noticed that the weather was often foul on the block the house stood on even with the skies were clear over the rest of the town.

And foul was the mood of Herman Munster when he lumbered through the front door that day, the vibrations of his colossal feet causing dust to fall from the ceiling. As he walked past the staircase to the second floor and navigated through the deary parlor that his wife had so lovingly filled with spiderwebs he called out to his spouse.

"Lily dear? Is anybody home? Lily come in here, I have something I need to discuss with you!"

"Herman?" his wife replied as she glided into the room from the kitchen. "Is everything all right? What's the matter? You look so serious you'd think you saw an Easter bunny outside! Did something happen at the parlor?"

Lily Munster nee Dracula would have been very attractive if not for her corpselike appearance. Lily's skin was a pale shade of bluish green that made her appear to have been murdered and left underwater overnight. Her long raven black hair extended down her back to nearly reach her knees and had streaks of sliver white that suggested a skunk. Her arched, upswept eyebrows made her appear alien, yet glamorous in a film noir way. She wore a faded sleeveless ankle-length pale pink gown that was almost white and a bat shaped medallion covered her décolletage.

"No dear, it was actually a good day," Herman admitted as he carefully parked his intimidating bulk onto the couch. "It was the walk home that bothered me."

"What's the matter dear?" his wife asked with loving concern as she glided over to sit at his side. Somehow she had done so without breaking a single spider web.

"It was all of the strange people I saw on the way home," Herman confessed uneasily. "A man pruning his hedge looked at me, screamed, and fainted. Another man was in his driveway changing his brake pads, but as I approached him he cried out, jumped in the car, gunned the engine and took off down the street. He was going too fast and couldn't take the corner and hit a mailbox. A teenage girl screamed when she saw me and begged me not to hurt her. And this is not the first time something strange like this has happened."

"You know, I've noticed people acting strangely when I leave the house too," Lily admitted.

"It's been staring us in the face all this time, but neither one of us wants to admit it," Herman sighed. "We're both going to have to face facts. This neighborhood has a serious drug problem."

"Oh Herman, I can't believe it!"

He shook his flat topped head sadly. "I don't want to believe it either but there's no denying it. You've watched the news. You know how the kids are smoking those funny cigarettes these days. And it's not just the kids. Every day I hear about a new kind of foreign substance people are using to 'open their minds,'" he snorted as he made air quotes.

"Oh my goodness!" Lily gasped. "Back in the old country we just had Lester and his wolfsbane!"

"Times are different now Lily," Herman shrugged his oversized shoulders. "Nowadays people are using everything from medication to glue. And it's getting into the schools. I think it's time to hold a family meeting."

"Oh Herman," gasped a broken hearted Lily. "Do we have to?"

"Marilyn is starting college, and from what I hear drugs are the second most popular sport after drinking," Herman declared solemnly before leaning in Lily's direction and bringing his voice down. "And besides, you know how hard it is for someone with her looks to fit in. She was always a bit of a rebel, and with her self-esteem issues she's a prime candidate for it. Besides you know how addiction has cursed… your side of the family."

"Oh Herman," Lily winced as she looked away. "Must you be so blunt about it? Sometimes you can be an absolute monster!"

"It's true dear," he insisted gently. "You know your brother Lester isn't the only one."

"Yes, I can't deny it," Lily nodded sadly. "I guess we need to talk to Marilyn and warn her just how easy it can be."

"And Eddie too," Herman decided. "We don't know how early the kids are getting hooked on things these days. And besides, if we just talk to Marilyn, it will look like we're picking on her," he added with fatherly concern.

"Oh Herman," Lily patted his arm. "You were always the level headed one in the family!"

Herman smiled in pride. "Well there's no time like the present," he said as he rose from the couch to stomp over to the staircase. "Kids! Eddie! Marilyn! Can you come downstairs for a moment? Family meeting!"

"Coming Pop!" a child's voice replied.

"Where's Grampa?" Herman asked his wife as he lumbered back into the living room.

"Where do you think?" Lily shrugged as she rose from the couch. "Down in the lab."

Herman clomped over to a trap door that had been hidden in the shadows and stomped on it three times before throwing it open. "Grampa!" he called. "Can you come up here? We're holding a family meeting! It's urgent!"

"What's so urgent that it can't wait?" a testy voice with a Brooklyn accent called back.

"It's a family meeting!" Herman retorted, "and you're the guest of honor! Come on, we can't hold it without you!"

"Keep your skin on," Lily's father, the old man the neighborhood nicknamed 'Grampa Munster' snorted as he emerged from the basement. Grampa was dressed in an archaic tuxedo and a cape. Like his daughter his bluish white complexion gave him a cadaverous appearance, but his features weren't debonair or sophisticated and his nose combined with his black hair with white sideburns gave him the appearance of a black and white owl. His husky appearance combined with Herman's great height made him look short, when in reality he towered over his diminutive daughter. "Now what's so important?"

"You'll see," Herman assured him as the old man waddled into the parlor and parked himself in what appeared to be an electric chair from the 1940's.

"What's going on?" a young woman asked as she entered the parlor.

Marilyn Munster was a young statuesque blonde woman with a slender yet curvaceous figure. Her flawless skin had a rosy complexion and her shoulder length platinum hair had a lustrous shine. Her short sleeved knee high dress flattered her figure yet still managed to pull off a conservative girl-next-door charm. To her gothic, Halloween themed family, the girl's choice of clothing seemed vulgar and rebellious but since they considered Marilyn's comely looks repulsive they didn't say anything, believing that anyone cursed with such lovely features an aberration so they didn't blame the quiet girl for expressing herself through her dress.

"Yeah, what's the emergency, Pop?" a young boy asked as he followed her in. Edward Wolfgang Munster was a small child whose large pointed ears gave him the appearance of a Christmas elf. His pallor was the same as that of his mother and he wore an archaic black suit with a jacket and shorts. When he spoke he revealed that his teeth were somewhat sharp and crooked. His short black hair was combed into a widow's peak.

"Well your mother and I have something very important to tell you," Herman replied as he took his place on the couch and picked up his son to place him on his knee. "It's kind of a warning. It can be a strange and dangerous world out there and sometimes the danger isn't something you'd think it is. A lot of strangers will try to introduce you to something you think you can do for fun, but in reality is a deadly trap."

"A deadly trap?" Marilyn repeated. "What do you mean?"

Sensing Herman's discomfort, Lily came to his rescue. "He trying to warn you that people you think are your friends might try to pressure you into doing something you might regret later."

"Is this the peer pressure talk?" Eddie asked suspiciously.

"Well peer pressure is usually how it starts," Herman replied. "I don't know if you're old enough to understand Eddie, but as you grow up you're going to encounter people who will try to get you to try something you haven't, whether it's a new drink or a cigarette or a pill…"

"Who will?" Marilyn asked. "What people?"

"I think he's talking about drugs," Eddie replied with a maturity that was out of character for someone of his tender years. "Isn't that right, Pop? This is a talk about drugs, isn't it?"

"Not just drugs Edward," he father corrected, "This is about addiction in general."

"But you're mainly talking about drugs aren't you?" the boy insisted. "At school they held an assembly in the cafeteria, and we had to watch a film about the dangers of drug addiction."

"Yes but it doesn't just have to be illegal drugs Eddie," Lily Munster interjected. "It could just about anything. Alcohol, nicotine, gambling, the list of addictions is endless!"

"The insidious thing about addictions is that they take control of you," Herman explained. "When you start it all seems like harmless fun, but once an addiction gets a hold of you become its slave. All you can think about is your next fix. Nothing else matters."

"That sounds unbelievable!" Marilyn gasped in horror.

"Oh you can believe it," Lily shook her head in disgust. "It can start so easily, you don't even know it's happening to you until you try to stop. If you only knew how quickly it can take over your life…"

"Oh come on, Mom," Eddie snorted. "None of us are dumb enough to fall for anything like that!"

"Oh you think so?" Herman retorted. "Well it just so happens that a member of this family is an addict. It nearly drove this family apart…"

"Oh here we go," Grampa muttered.

Herman continued as if no one had said anything. "There's someone in this room whose living proof that it can happen to anyone, no matter how smart you think you are…"

"Here it comes!" Grampa grumbled. "You make one mistake in life and you never live it down!"

"Grampa!" Marilyn gasped as she placed a dainty hand on her collarbone. "You?"

"You're the addict Grampa?" Eddie asked in disbelief. "What are you addicted to? All those potions and pills you make down in the lab?"

"No of course not," Grampa waved his hand dismissively.

"It's not something we like to talk about," Lily said stiffly.

"Never the less, you should probably hear the whole sordid story," Herman insisted pompously.

"We don't know how it started," Lily began. "I guess it was right in front of me the whole time, but I never noticed it until your grandfather came to stay near us while your father and I were living in England."

"What were you doing in England?" Eddie asked.

"Well after Doctor Frankenstein put me together I was adopted by the Munsters," Herman explained, "and they lived in England."

"It wasn't until Grampa moved to England to be near to us that we noticed it," Lily continued. "He had moved into that lovely place at Carfax Abbey…"

"If you two are going to throw me under the hearse, could you at least let _me_ tell it?" Grampa interrupted. "It's not like I'm proud of it or anything."

"Very well, tell it your own way," Herman sniffed. "Confession is good for the soul."

"Even so, I'll 'fess up anyway," Grampa snorted before shifting in his electric chair and looking at the Marilyn and Eddie uncomfortably. "All right, I admit looking back I had a problem. But at the time it didn't seem that way. Believe it or not your old grandfather was still considered quite dashing back then. After I got settled in, I went out to spend some nights on the town. I'd go out for the night, see the sights, find some sweet young thing and go _drinking_ …" With that last word, Grampa Munster got a strange faraway look in his eye and smiled at the recollection.

"It was simply disgraceful!" Lily protested. "A man his age running around like that! It was simply disgraceful."

"I'm old!" Grampa retorted. "Not dead!"

"Not that you ever let being dead stop you," Herman snorted.

"It got so your grandfather was going out drinking every night," Lily sniffed disdainfully. "Every night with a different girl who didn't know what she was getting into…"

"I'm just as red blooded as everyone else!" Grampa insisted.

"Your blood was even redder, you were drinking so much," Herman muttered.

"He'd show up every morning a bright crimson," Lily shook her head. "After a while he barely even visited your father and me. All he could think about was the next time he'd meet a young woman and get a drink! It was like we didn't even know him anymore! He was an absolute fiend! A total monster!"

"You're exaggerating," Grampa winced.

"You think so?" Herman countered. "Wait 'till you hear what happened next kids. Your mother and I got worried, so we started asking around, but the only one in the country who knew Grampa very well was Jonathan Harker, the solicitor who acted as his estate agent when your grandfather moved to England. It turns out he also had a problem and recommended him to Doctor Abram van Helsing, the foremost expert on addiction at the time. He got your grandfather into a support group…"

"But guess what Grampa did next…" Lily interjected.

"Lay off, will ya?" Grampa winced.

"He ran away!" Lily bawled. "Can you believe it? A grown man like Grampa actually ran away! They had to chase him all over Europe to catch up with him!"

"I gotta say this for Van Helsing, he never gave up," Grampa shook his head in admiration. "No matter how many times I gave him and the boys the slip they always managed to track me down. They were determined to stop my drinking no matter what!"

"That's what made him the best," Herman declared. "He took charge and led his patients from the front. And I really have to admire Jonathan Harker, John Seward, and Quincy Morris and rest. No matter how much of an inconvenience it was to their personal lives they never gave up on you."

"They knew how awful the clutches of addiction could be," Lily nodded. "They knew it could have just as easily been one of them who acted like that. You really owe them a debt of gratitude Grampa."

"Yeah, I guess I do," Grampa muttered as he looked down at the floor in shame. "I made quite a mess back then didn't I?"

"What you did to the family name…" Lily scolded.

"Don't remind me!" Grampa winced. "I really ran it through the gutter!"

"Even today, whenever someone mentions the name 'Count Dracula' all they can think about is your grandfather and his drinking," Herman snorted.

"Do they ever talk about my genius?" Grampa moaned. "About my inventions? About my contributions to mad science? No! When they say the name 'Dracula' all they talk about is that guy in the cape and his drinking problem!"

"After that we had to move to the states," Herman continued. "Your grandfather had made too big a spectacle of himself in Europe. We couldn't even move back to the old country."

"It was after that we decided that it would be better if he lived with us, so we could keep an eye on him," Lily nodded sternly, "for his own good."

"And we've been keeping an eye on him to this day," Herman finished. "The thing about having an addiction is that you never stop being an addict. The best you can hope for is that you find the strength to stop using. The cravings never go away, not entirely. Even now, Grampa has to watch himself and not walk into a situation where he would be tempted…."

"Gosh Pop!" Eddie exclaimed. "It sounds like a horror story!"

END


End file.
